Page 3 of Subbing For Santa

What the hell is going on?

Since I’ve already taken the package, I’ve entered the game, but shit, now I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea. Am I safe? What the hell have I agreed to?

Shit, shit, shit.

With shaky hands, I pick up the phone and unlock it easily since it doesn’t have a passcode on it. A quick check shows me there’s only one number saved. Santa.

Without thinking, I hit call, and it rings once before connecting and a deep male voice booms through the line.

“You were told not to contact me! Can’t you read?!”

I flinch back at his harsh assessment, the insult hitting hard.

“W-what? Y-yes, but how do you know about dinner with my friends? And my red dress? And my name, for that matter?”

“You were warned!” He hisses before hanging up.

A moment later, the entire house goes dark.

Santa

I’mbothfurious,andturned on by my little elf’s disobedience. She knew the rules, but she let her emotions get the better of her. Little does she know, she just made the game more exciting.

I watched her stew over what to do when she finally noticed the invitation.

My little elf was so torn between her need and her brain. I was almost certain she was going to refuse my invitation after a while, but then, she gave into her carnal need and left her house to get the package.

Because I’m a risk taker, I stood only meters from her driveway in the thick scrub, watching as she wandered from her house, up to the road to her mailbox. She didn’t even know I was there. Didn’t even know how fucking close I was.

I could have snatched her up and given into my desires right then and there. But no. I need to play this game with her. I need to see if she has what it takes.

Chapter two

Punishments

Agatha

Bloodrushesinmyears as my heart nearly leaps out of my throat. The little lake house is plunged into darkness, with only the hint of the pink sunset filtering through the gum trees to give a touch of light.

I strain my ears, trying to hear past the rush of my blood to listen for a sign of a storm rolling in, or wind that could have knocked out a power line. But all is still. All is calm.

On shaky legs, I move to the large glass wall that looks out over the lake, only to find the yellow glow of lights from the other houses across the lake. I ease the door open and step out onto the decked balcony, moving to the railing to glance to the east and west of my rental, only to see the same yellow glow coming from houses further up the bank.

Part of me is screaming, RED FLAG! The power went out when Santa, or whoever the hell I called on the phone, reminded me that I’d been warned about calling him. My gut twists with fear, and I try not to acknowledge that the man on the other end of the phone is highly likely responsible for sending me into darkness.

Who am I playing with here? A psychopath trying to scare me?

Fuck.

If it is, then it’s working, because I am scared. I hate the dark, especially when it’s forced on me. Something I don’t want to even think about as memories of a childhood I’ve tried to forget start beating at the corners of my mind.

Using the torch on my phone, I move back inside, locking the glass door behind me, before slipping my shoes back on that I kicked off by the front door earlier. Then I nervously crack open the front door, peering out into the dark bushland surrounding the house.

I need to get to the meter box, but since this isn’t my house, I’m not certain where it is. Typically, they are on the outside of garages here in Australia, so I make that my destination, and move slowly out into the humid night.

Walking with quiet feet down the stony path, my eyes dart everywhere as my heart thrashes in my chest and my ears pick up nothing but loud crickets and some sort of weird bird call. All these noises weren’t there before when the sun was still up, and are now freaking me out, so I hurry along to the side of the garage where I find the meter box.

Shit! There’s a fucking padlock on it.

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